the sound of silence
by anaximanders
Summary: He is a quiet boy, and she is a loquacious girl. [one-shot; Red/Touko]


**a/n: drabble-ish thing that is also a kind of experiment. Uroborusshipping (Red/Touko).**

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**:****the sound of silence:**

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He's quiet. Very quiet. Mute, almost, which is what many people believe when they first meet him. The shy, dark-haired, red-eyed boy with the trademark Pikachu and a team that could demolish them at a whim.

He doesn't, though. He turns down challenges and secludes himself in mountains or old hotels or in his childhood haunts, lazily skipping stones across clear lakes, feet dangling inches above the water.

All attempts at conversation with him meet an untimely, gruesome end. Strangers will sit, wait, idle around or fiddle with autograph-signing pens until they get bored enough that they leave. Few ever linger as long as the really determined ones, though. Most are intimidated by him and his reputation, which precedes him and announces his arrival in a fanfare of drums and trumpets and noise. It's like an aura, almost. A massive, galaxy-engulfing aura that swallows entire cities and keeps people away like a bubble.

Or perhaps a prison.

He _does_ talk. It's not like he can't; on the contrary, he is quite capable of voicing his opinions, and he does do it sometimes. He only keeps his mouth shut because people have long since stopped listening.

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She's loud. Chatty. Brash, some would say.

_Impulsive, _her friend Cheren would mutter, adjusting his glasses to hide a bemused smile.

_Daring_, Bianca would retort, flashing the hypothetical interviewer a winning smile before tripping over her skirt.

_Badass_, her brother, Hilbert, would answer, grinning.

The Gym Leaders are rather divided in their views, but they can all come to a general consensus when it comes to describing the Champion of the Unova region. Her mentor, Alder, would definitely be the most outspoken of them all.

_Headstrong, yes, but determined_, he would reply, fiery red hair fluttering in the wind.

As for the boy with the green hair and the dragon with feathered white wings, she doesn't know what he would say. He's gone, and she never got a chance to ask.

She wonders about that once in a while. When she's all by herself, she lounges on a bed or a chair, draping herself comfortably across incongruous pieces of furniture, gazing up at the ceiling or the stars, and she thinks, and she questions.

Her friend-turned-enemy had very radical ideas. What would he say about her as a person?

_Hero_, she hopes (hoped).

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The two of them have no need for words. They speak in a wordless language all of their own, in gestures and emotions and glances and subtle messages.

Her body fits into the crook of his so perfectly, it's almost as if they were two puzzle pieces meant to be put together. At times, they curl up in her blankets like a pair of cocoons, and she looks at him while he looks at her. Unspoken communication passes through them both and their eyes (red and brown) sparkle.

A smile curves up the sides of her face, and hesitantly, he follows.

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He teaches her how to appreciate the quiet moments, the introspective moments when they just withdraw into each other.

She teaches him how to appreciate the loudness, the colorful bits of life, when they both feel dizzy and warm and happy and their cheeks are flushed red with love.

If there is one person he talks to, it is her.

If there is one person that she thinks of all the time, it is him.

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They are high above the clouds, riding on his Charizard, and her hands are around his waist and she is whooping, raising a hand to skim the night sky.

And he is smiling.

And they are two beautiful opposites: she is wild and he is subdued, but they both complete each other that way.

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The skies are dark and it is pouring rain, but they sit happily in a little nest of their own. Nestled in between pillows and warm sheets, they have each other and neither of them is talking. They are basking in the moment.

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He hands her a bouquet of fragrant white roses and she breaks into a wide grin. Her hands wind around his neck, bouquet still clasped.

"Red, have I ever told you I lo-"

He silences her with a kiss. Her eyes widen, then close, and she is leaning in and kissing him back.

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"You've gotta try one of these," she exclaims, guiding him over to the ice-cream stand. A serpentine line has already started in front of it, and as she nears, she glances at the linear progression in despair.

"It's worth it, right?" he asks.

"Definitely," she agrees, her face lit up once again. "Come on. We'll wait."

They do, and the line eventually thins down. The server greets them and asks how many cones they will have. She replies, "Two for us both."

"That'll be 200 Poke, please."

He reaches for his wallet, but she stops him by thrusting out the pre-counted wad of bills. Taking the money, the woman hands them two perfectly round scoops of white-blue ice cream and says, "Enjoy!" before attending to the next customer.

"Try it!" she encourages him as they sit down on a bench. He eyes the ice cream with trepidation. "It's like a RageCandybar. Come on, have a bite!"

He takes a tentative lick. The ice cream lives up to its reputation as the most delicious frozen treat in all of Unova. He takes a big bite and winces slightly as his gums smart.

She laughs, and he scoops up some ice cream with a finger and dabs it on her nose. She giggles and does the same thing to him.

He feels a smile creeping up on him and lets it show.

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They skip rocks, sitting side-by-side on a grassy shore. Pikachu and Serperior are sprawled out next to them, watching their Trainers languidly.

He cups her hand, shows her how to throw it farther, and lets go. She swings her hand exactly as he says and the stone bounces several times before sinking.

She kisses him lightly on the cheek and beams.

Afterwards, they sit like that until the sun drops and the skies are painted pink and gold, and then they lie down and watch the stars and fall asleep, hand-in-hand.

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He is a quiet boy, and she is a loquacious girl. They understand each other well. Each loves and is loved in return.


End file.
